


Commando

by Ellislash (MintSharpie)



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Drabble, Flirting, Hard Rain, M/M, Nellis, wet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSharpie/pseuds/Ellislash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wearing white in the rain is either the worst idea, or the absolute best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commando

As if there weren’t enough reasons to hate the rain already, it turned out that his suit was way, _way_ thinner than he’d thought. Yeah, okay, he got it because it was light and comfortable in the Southern heat, and yeah, okay, it was old enough to be wearing through in places, but come on! A little water and suddenly the damn thing was clingy and translucent as wedding-night lingerie. The mud was almost a goddamn blessing, splattering up to cover what the cloth suddenly wasn’t, but the storm was so bad that the dirt washed away just as fast as it had come.

So here he was, squinting through the downpour in a flooded sugar field, trying to stay behind everyone else so they wouldn’t get an eyeful of his own behind. Not that he was insecure or anything – no, he just didn’t want the others to get distracted. And they would. Because he was one sexy motherfucker.

Yeah.

Unfortunately, he could only hide for as long as there was room to do so. Riding up the elevator – that goddamn noisy-ass elevator – put him in very close proximity to the rest of his team, and there wasn’t much he could do about that. He squeezed his back into a corner and held his gun strategically to cover his front, but couldn’t shake the feeling that there were eyes on him, judging him. He told himself it was just the zombies, who came running at them as soon as the rusty grille screeched open. He managed to forget about the situation while fighting for his life, and really, the rain was probably too heavy for anyone to see, right?

...right?

“Hey Nick,” Ellis’ voice came from the next room. “Can ya gimme a hand over here, please?”

“Ugh, what now?” Nick groaned, not wanting to leave his corner of the safehouse hall until he’d dried off.

“Just need’ja for somethin’ real quick, won’t take a second.”

“Get Coach to do it,” he snapped, curling a little tighter in on himself. Ellis poked his head through the door like an impatient prairie dog.

“C’mon, man, I could really use yer help.”

Nick made dissatisfied noises and looked around for Rochelle or Coach. Neither was in sight – they’d probably gone upstairs and were asleep already, the assholes. He sighed in the most aggravated tone he could manage.

“All right, all right, I’m coming…”

He waited for Ellis to stop looking before he stood up. There was no way to cover himself discreetly with his rifle now, so after a moment of rapid assessment he peeled his suit jacket off and tied the sleeves around his waist. A bit of careful arranging, and he could walk with slightly less shame. He made his way to the other room, grumbling all the while.

“This better be important, Overalls, or I’m gonna-”

The complaint came to a choking halt. Ellis was sitting quite casually on the sofa, boots and socks placed neatly on the floor, and shirt draped over an end table to dry. Fine. But what stopped Nick in his tracks was that _the coveralls were gone, too_.

Ellis wore his hat - and _nothing else_.

“Yer gonna catch cold if ya don’t take that shit off, Nick,” he said slyly.

“I… Overalls, what the fuck are you doing?” Nick was ashamed to hear his voice crack, but even more ashamed that he couldn’t seem to look away. “Put some goddamn clothes on!”

“Nah,” Ellis said dismissively. He stood and walked towards Nick, who could just barely manage to stumble a few steps backward. “You’ve been showin’ off all day, an’ I gotta tell ya, I like what I see. So now it’s my turn… Whaddaya think, Mr. Fancy-Suit?”

He moved closer in a way that made the lantern-light glisten along his still-damp skin. Nick could hardly believe what was happening – and the sleeves of his jacket were nowhere near enough to shield what was now going on in his pants.

“Shit, kid, what the hell’s gotten into you?” he growled, using every fiber of his being to keep his eyes from straying. His back thudded against the wall.

Ellis just chuckled, and slid forward until their faces were almost touching. His hands were already working the knot at Nick’s waist.

“Nothin’ yet, but in a minute I sure hope it’s gonna be you.”

The jacket slithered to the floor.


End file.
